The Greatest Gift
by LemonSupreme
Summary: A kinda-sorta redo of the Christmas Classic "The Gift of the Magi" starring Charlie and Bass of course. Mushy and Fluffy. Set after the Patriot War is over. Times are tough in Willoughby and funding the perfect gift for that someone special can be a struggle. All audiences.


**A/N One of the first short stories I remember reading which truly had an impact on me was "The Gift of the Magi" by O Henry. If for some reason you have never read it, please pause here and read it now. What follows is my attempt to revamp that tale a bit for the Charloe universe. If it sucks, I apologize. As you may have guessed, I own nothing…. Either from the world of Revolution or the works of the great O.**

**My intention in writing this little one-shot is only to inspire some holiday cheer. It is with humble respect that I dedicate this to Mr Henry himself (They have access to fan fiction in heaven, right?)**

Two tiny diamonds and seven dollars in the new Texas currency. That is all. And a few of those Texas dollars are actually compiled of Texas pennies – each and every one of them scrimped and saved over the course of the last few months. Every coin bears the likeness of President Blanchard himself and Charlie feels as if all of those tiny Franks are mocking her.

Two tiny diamonds and seven Texas dollars, and tomorrow will be Christmas.

Clearly there is nothing left to do but cry, so that is what she does. Charlie sits down on the worn sofa and puts her head in her hands. Soon her narrow shoulders are wracked with quiet sobs.

While the lady of the house works through her frustration with tears, let us take a moment and glance around this place she calls home. A sturdy but simple little house, it is tidy and mostly furnished in ancient castoffs from a time long forgotten. There is a cheerful yellow afghan thrown over the back of the rocking chair in one corner, and in front of the stone fireplace hearth sits a small wooden box of toys. Beside the rocking chair is a stack of books – almost all history, a large portion of them are about the Civil War. The overstuffed chair which faces the rocker has a similar stack of books beside it, though this stack is predominantly composed of decades old medical journals and the occasional tattered romance novel.

The sofa Charlie sits on converts to a hideaway bed for little Gina at night. She is four and lights up the world around her. Two doors offer exits from this homey space. One leads into a cozy kitchen, complete with painted cabinets and a chipped Formica table. The second door opens into a small but inviting bedroom which Charlie shares with her husband of five years, General Sebastian Monroe.

They lead a simple, but happy life. In truth they never truly want for anything of importance. There is always food on the table and a crackling fire to warm them. Today feels different though. Today Charlie wants to buy her husband a Christmas present, but sees no possible way for it to happen – not with the tiny sum she has saved.

Charlie remembers back to their early days together. The Patriot war was just gearing up and when she had decided to train beside her Grandfather in the field, some had been surprised. Folks had grown used to seeing her fight with Miles and Bass. Few had realized her yearning to heal instead of fight. Grandpa Gene had taken her under his wing, and taught her everything he knew. She had flourished under his tutelage and although technically she has only ever earned a high school diploma (hand-written on the back of an old Hallmark card by Aaron Pittman himself, thank you very much), she has become Willoughby's physician by default.

The Battle of Fort Worth had been costly on all fronts, but it seemed that Team Matheson-Monroe was hit the hardest. Already having fought for a solid year against those devils in khaki, the Texas troops were exhausted and losing hope. On that particular bright fall day, Grandpa Gene was the first to fall. Strangely, although on a battle field with bullets flying and blades slashing, it was a run of the mill heart attack that finally took down the beloved Dr. Porter. Charlie had been with him, tending to the wounded when it happened. She knew right away that there was nothing she could do, so with tears streaming down her face, she had continued to bandage and stitch and numb the pain of the injured.

Hours later Bass, Miles and their platoon of twenty-two men had been cornered and death seemed imminent. The two aging Generals had come up with an idiotic and cocksure plan – which luckily for them was their forte – and set about putting it into action. The plan was working rather well, right up till Miles left arm was shattered by a bullet. Bass took a few precious moments to tie a tourniquet around his best friend's upper arm before delving back into the fray.

Bass's bravery would later be credited for saving all twenty-two Texans under his watch. He was officially recognized by the Government of Texas as being heroic (if also, as Blanchard put it 'really fucking stupid'). Bass was awarded the Medal of Texan Valor for saving his entire platoon and Miles too. Miles would argue that his left arm didn't get saved at all, but it did seem like a small price to pay when viewed with the proper perspective. Charlie had, after all, been able to amputate right there on the battlefield, thus saving Miles with her skill and fast thinking.

Miles had still been recovering when Rachel had become one of many Willoughby residents who had fallen to a flu epidemic. He and Charlie had both struggled at first as this loss seemed to hit the two of them the hardest. In the end they did what they felt Rachel would have wanted. They moved on.

The Medal Bass received was pretty much what you'd expect, but Blanchard had also given Bass one other gift privately. This one, Frank said, was not going to be part of the public ceremony for two reasons. One – the gift was a sword used by none other than Ulysses S Grant and may, or may not, have been acquired legally when the Civil War museum in Dallas had been torn apart and looted. His second reason was much simpler. "Can't let anyone see me handing out Yankee souvenirs, can I now?" President Blanchard had asked with a smirk.

The medal had been stowed in a keepsake box and promptly forgotten by Bass Monroe. The sword, on the other hand – this became his most prized material possession. He had built a special wooden mount and hung the thing above the fireplace where he could gaze at it fondly and wax eloquent as he told his baby girl and lovely wife stories of historic battles in which that sword had swung at the hand of a different former president.

Lost in memory, Charlie is still sad, but her tears have dried. Her gaze is drawn to the sword and maybe for the hundredth time today she wishes she had enough money to buy for Bass exactly the thing she knows would make his Christmas complete. They'd spotted it in an antique shop on the edge of Willoughby some weeks ago. She can still remember the look of awe that had covered his features as he realized just exactly what he was looking at. It was a scabbard, but not just any old scabbard. It was Grant's very own sheath for the sword which was displayed in their home. Probably it had been sprung from the same decimated Civil War museum, but Bass didn't care where it came from. He wanted it. The intricately etched design down the side of the old leather was distinctive and beautifully detailed. Bass had asked how much but of course the price had been ridiculous. He had simply shaken his head sadly before wrapping an arm around his wife's shoulder and picking his little girl off the floor. As Gina squealed with happiness, Bass had looked down on his girls with a happy smile, before promising the shop keeper he'd try to come back some day with enough money to buy the old scabbard he so admired.

This memory suddenly brings to Charlie's mind the very beginnings of a plan. As her thoughts swirl, a slow smile begins to take shape on her beautiful face.

Now there are two possessions within the Sebastian and Charlotte Monroe household which cause the couple to burst with pride. You are aware of the first – Grant's sword, so proudly displayed. But now we should ponder the second thing that holds so much meaning for them – specifically for her. Grandpa Gene was not the first in his family to study medicine, you see. His own grandfather Cornelius Porter had been the first and he had purchased a set of medical tools in 1899 with which he practiced until he retired. At that point, he passed them to his son Albert who was also a doctor (and Gene's Dad). When the time came, Albert passed them along to Gene, who still had them in his possession when he died. It had been Rachel who had suggested Charlie keep the tools when he was gone.

These tools, which for generations have helped Porters (and now a Monroe) heal the sick, are very special to Charlie. She uses them only sometimes, as the old leather bag they are stored in has become brittle and weak with age. She knows these tools are valuable. She's been offered a handsome amount of money for them in the past. Charlie has never even considered selling them, but now… maybe…

Many have said over the years that Charlotte Monroe is a stubborn woman, and each and every one of them has been correct. Once her mind is made up, she stands. No longer sad and mopey, she now has a bounce to her step. Quickly she dons her old leather jacket and puts on her boots. She'll have enough time to do what she wants to do before Bass and Gina will be home. Bass will be picking their daughter up at the end of the school day from Uncle Aaron's where she is learning to write the alphabet.

Charlie carefully pulls the tattered old medical bag from its shelf in her closet and heads out the door. She walks straight to the local pawn shop run by a cantankerous old man with frizzy white hair named Merle. "What'cha got for me Doc?" he asks Charlie with a rare smile. Charlie had helped Merle's wife Alice when she'd been terribly sick the year before, and he will never forget her kindness.

"I'm here to sell some antique medical equipment. Would you take a look?"

"Well, of course." He opens the bag carefully and picks the tools out one at a time, laying them out in a neat row. They are in perfect condition and were manufactured in a time when quality truly was the primary concern for any craftsman. "Are you sure you want to get rid of these Doc? They are worth a nice sum, but I'd guess not nearly as much as the sentimental value they hold?"

Charlie stares lovingly at the tools, but nods. "I need the money Merle. I want to give Bass a special Christmas. It's important to me….even more important than these."

Merle frowns, "Thought doctors were supposed to be loaded?" he asks.

Charlie smiles, "I didn't become a doctor to get rich Merle. I get by, but I'll never get rich. Half of my patients pay me with food for our table or the occasional toy for little Gina.

Merle nods, remembering all too well that he had been strapped the year before and had paid his bill with two chickens (still clucking) and a side of cured bacon. He nods to Doc Monroe, "I'll take em Doc, and I'll give you a good price."

"Thank you Merle. It means so much."

Charlie says a quiet goodbye to the pile of her family's history as Merle hands over a stack of Texas dollars. She thanks him and turns quickly before she can change her mind. Once the door to the little pawn shop closes behind her, she feels suddenly lighter, and definitely happier. Almost giddy with excitement, she jogs down the long narrow streets, waving at friendly faces who are hollering out their cheerful holiday greetings. Charlie reaches the antique store just as the proprietor – one of her patients; Mr. Simpson - is turning the sign from 'open' to 'closed'.

Charlie waves her little pile of money at him and he grins before opening the door wide, "Please come in Dr. Monroe. What can I do for you?"

"Hello Mr. Simpson, do you remember the scabbard that my husband was drooling over?"

The shopkeeper's eyes twinkle, "Of course I do Dear. He's got good taste."

"Well, I'm here to buy that for his Christmas present!" she says with a grin.

"Follow me." He says before walking down a crowded aisle.

They find the item easily and Charlie is even given a special holiday discount. Charlie is pretty sure that has a lot more to do with Mr. Simpson's gout and the diet she's put him on than it has to do with the holiday, but she won't complain.

Carefully, he wraps the scabbard in thin tissue paper and hands it to her. "Merry Christmas to you and all of your family Doc Monroe."

"Thank you. Merry Christmas to you too." Charlie almost skips out of the store. She remembers that she still has her original seven dollars and those two tiny diamonds, and so decides to make a couple more stops. At the bakery she buys a loaf of fresh bread. At the butcher, she picks up a lovely ham. Her final stop is a little book store, and there she gets something for Gina, a copy of "Charlotte's Web" by EB White. Charlie can't help but smile when she gazes at the book. She knows Gina will love this story and Bass adores reading to his little girl at bedtime, so this will be a gift for them both.

Now, the only thing in her pocket in one lonely Frank Blanchard penny. She tosses it into a charity bucket in front of the church as she makes her way home.

Charlie is surprised to see the amount of light that is shining in the windows when she reaches their little house. Bass must have every lantern and candle lit. She picks up her pace as worry settles in her gut, and bursts through the front door. "Is everything okay?" she asks.

Bass emerges from the bedroom, his expression grim. Gina is right behind him and her little face looks equally upset.

"What is it?" Charlie asks as panic begins to set in.

Bass runs a hand through his curls nervously, "Baby, we've been robbed."

"What?" Charlie's mood switches from concern to outrage in a moment. She glances at the mantle above the fireplace and lets out an anguished cry. Grant's sword is gone.

"Yeah, I'm so sorry. And the worst of it is that they took your Granddad's medical bag."

"Huh?" Charlie stares blankly at him for a moment. "No, they didn't steal that, but that's not the worst. Didn't you see the sword is gone?"

Now it's Bass's turn to look confused. "No, the sword wasn't stolen. I sold it."

"You did what?" Charlie sits down heavily, no longer sure her shaky legs will hold her up.

Bass kneels beside his wife, "I wanted to get you something really special for Christmas, Charlie. You are so important to me. I love you so much, but I had no money. I sold the sword so that I could buy you the perfect gift."

Charlie feels tears well, and reaches out to stroke his cheek gently. Charlie loves the feel of his soft beard under her fingers. She sighs, "I love you too. Maybe next year we should discuss this stuff beforehand a little more though."

"What do you mean?" Bass asks.

"Well, I wanted to get you the perfect gift too, but I also didn't have any money. The medical bag wasn't stolen Bass. I sold the tools so I could buy your gift."

"But those tools meant so much to you." Bass is shocked.

"No nearly as much as you mean to me." Charlie smiles at her husband.

"You sold your tools to buy me a gift?"

"Yes."

"Well, what is my gift?" he asks, curiously.

"This." She holds out the tissue wrapped item and he takes it from her hands.

"Oh." He says as the shape of the package indicates clearly what's inside. He carefully tears away the tissue and strokes the leather lovingly. "It is beautiful. I love it."

Charlie is frowning in spite of his words, "But you sold your sword?"

He nods, "To buy you this." And he holds out a large wooden box.

Charlie carefully lifts the lid and looks inside. A new handmade leather satchel – big enough to hold all of the medical tools she'd sold earlier today – is nestled inside the box. Carefully stitched into the leather are the names of the doctors who have carried the tools…

Dr. Cornelias Porter ** Dr. Albert Porter ** Dr. Eugene Porter ** Dr. Charlotte Matheson Monroe".

"Oh Bass, This is…" she's not even sure how to continue. Tears are flowing once again. Charlie looks into the face of her husband and sees that he's crying too. But these are not tears of regret, or remorse. Nothing but love lies within their salty trails.

Gina Monroe has been watching her parents quietly. She approaches and puts one little hand on her Mommy's shoulder, the second on her Daddy's knee. "Don't you just love Christmas?" she says with a soft little smile. "It lets our hearts grow bigger for all the love to live inside."

Bass picks his daughter up and sets her in Charlie's lap before hugging them both tight. "You're so right Gina." He says against her hair. "Our hearts are full of love this Christmas."

Their little family moment is interrupted by a loud knock on the door. Bass stands and wipes at his wet eyes. He takes the few steps to the front door and opens it. "Charlie, come here." His voice holds a hint of surprise and maybe also wonder.

Charlie and Gina both follow him to the door and immediately they share her surprise. "What's going on?" Charlie asks, as she watches the growing crowd on her front lawn. Each of the people gathered is holding a lantern or candle.

The local pastor steps forward from the crowd, "We had a little impromptu town meeting tonight. You see we've all been trying to think of some way to show you how much the people of Willoughby appreciate you, and we had been struggling."

Miles Matheson makes his way to the front of the group. His hair is shot through with gray and he's short an arm, but otherwise he's still just Miles. "You got all these folks tricked into thinking you two are pretty special." He laughs, "Not that I disagree."

Bass picks Gina up and the little girl wraps her arms around her Daddy's neck. He says to her, "See Gina, they love your Mama."

The pastor pipes up. "That's true, but we love you too General." He holds up a box. "This is some fudge. I made it for you myself. Not a day goes by that I am not thankful for you saving my little brother in the Battle of Fort Worth."

A slender woman, bent with age is the next to approach. She holds a neatly folded quilt. "I've been working on this for you for months. Ever since you took out Elmer's appendix when he had that attack. You saved him Dr Charlie. I'll forever be thankful. This is the least I could do."

Aaron and Priscilla Pittman move out of the shadows, depositing a pile of books on the porch. "These are for Gina. She sure loves a good story. I want to say thanks to both of you. Thanks Charlie for being my friend and my family even when the world seemed out to get us." He turns to Monroe, "And thanks for being the guy she needed, even when some of us had our doubts at first."

Bass laughs, pulling Charlie closer.

One after the other, the gathered townspeople share their gratitude – to Bass for his bravery which seems to have saved some member of every family in Willoughby and others to Charlie for her desire to heal the sick and care for the dying.

Soon the porch is piled high with food and handmade gifts. Miles had let the others surge forward, but now he moves back to the front. "Just a few more things, and then we'll get out of your hair." He kneels and motions for Gina to come forward, "Come here Kid." He says to the little girl.

She jumps down from her Daddy's arms and runs to Great Uncle Miles. "What is it?" she asks him, smiling.

He picks up a brown bag from near his feet and hands it to her. She opens the bag and squeals in delight, pulling a small stuffed bear from inside. "I love it." She says, holding the bear tight to her chest in a hug. "Thank you Uncle Miles!"

He grins down at the sweet little girl who reminds him so much of Charlie. He misses Rachel, but feels that being close to Charlie and Gina fills in most of the void left by Rachel's death.

"Well," Bass says, still almost overcome with this outpouring of holiday spirit, "Thank you so much for…"

"We aren't done yet!" comes a grouchy voice from the middle of the crowd. Merle the pawn shop owner makes his way to the front. People get out of his way because he's carrying Grant's sword and isn't really paying much attention to wear it swings. "Thought you might want this back."

The pastor speaks up again, "That's why we called the town meeting tonight. Merle and Mr. Simpson started talking after they closed their shops. You both sold something important to Merle and then used that money to buy something from Mr. Simpson. Once those two started comparing notes, it became clear that you were both just as generous and thoughtful in your personal lives as you've been with all of us. That's when the plan formed."

Merle walks forward and hands the sword to Bass. "It's yours." He says with a smile.

"So is this." Mr. Simpson brings forward the tattered old bag of medical tools.

Charlie is crying again. She doesn't remember crying this much in years. "But we can't take all these things. This is crazy."

"Yes you can take them. They are our gift to you. Our little way of saying thank you. Thank you for saving our boys." He nods at Bass, "And thanks for healing us even when we could only pay with live chickens." He nods at Charlie. "You two are perfect for each other, but you are also perfect for this town. We just wanted you to know how much we appreciate you. And if we can't do it on Christmas, I don't know when we can."

Bass nods back, "Thank you."

The crowd starts to disperse, but the pastor sticks around for one more minute. "I know you guys don't come to services all that often, but there's a verse in the Good Book that reminds me a lot of you."

"Oh, what's that?" Charlie asks.

"Three things will last forever-faith, hope, and love-and the greatest of these is love." Then he grins, "Merry Christmas Monroe family. I hope you have a lovely holiday. Don't be a stranger."

Miles helps them move their gifts inside. Bass asks him to stick around, but Miles needs to get home. His new lady friend is making him dinner.

Later that night Bass and Charlie lie snuggled in their bed. He runs his fingers through her long curls. "I love you Dr. Monroe." He whispers softly into her ear.

"I love you too General Monroe. Merry Christmas."

"Yeah, don't think it could get any merrier than this."


End file.
